CHAPTER VIII

AFTER THE WHALE

There was considerable excitement on the dock. The news soon spread that one of the monsters of the deep had been sighted off the beach, and a number of boats were gotten ready to go out for a glimpse of the whale.

“Here’s our chance,” said Ned. “Why can’t we go out and have a look at him? I never saw a whale in the ocean.”

“Neither did I, nor anywhere else,” Jerry replied. “I guess we can go.”

“Hi there!” hailed a voice, and the boys saw the old sailor beckoning to them. “Avast! I want to speak to you. Avast! Belay!”

“Shall we see what he wants?” asked Jerry.

The old man was dancing about on the dock, hitching his trousers up so often that Bob remarked he would wear them out in a short time at that rate. His one eye was rolling about trying to see in half a dozen directions at once.

“Can’t do any harm to learn what he wants,” Ned replied. “Put her over, Jerry.”

Accordingly the _Dartaway_ was steered toward the dock, on which there were quite a number of persons. Several were getting boats ready to go off and get a view of the big creature.

“Steady now, my hearties!” exclaimed the old sailor. “That’s the way to do it! Couldn’t have done it any better myself!” as Jerry brought the boat up alongside of the dock without hitting the string piece.

“Did you call us?” asked Bob.

“Sure, son, I want you to take me out so we can kill that whale. Shiver my timbers, but it’s like old times again!”

“Did you ever kill whales?” asked Ned.

“Did I? Say you don’t know me!”

Then, rolling up his sleeves and disclosing two very hairy and much tattooed arms he sang in a high, quavering voice:

“I’ve traveled in the North sea. I’ve traveled in the South. I’ve killed a whale With the biggest tail And the smallest kind of a mouth!”

“That’s me! That’s Salt Water Sam!” he went on. “Now boys, if you wait a minute I’ll go after my harpoon and line, and we’ll have a whale chase as is a chase.”

Before the boys could reply, the old sailor ran from the dock toward a little shanty that stood on the beach. When he was gone Jerry asked:

“Shall we risk it, fellows?”

“Maybe he’s only joking?” Bob said. “He doesn’t look as if he knew how to harpoon a whale.”

“Let’s take him along, anyhow,” Ned put in. “He’ll know a lot about the ocean, and we can ask him about the lighthouses and the rocks, even if we don’t see him kill a whale.”

In a few minutes the old man came back again. On his head he carried a tub, while over his shoulder was a long pole. He ran down to the dock with a speed surprising in so old a person.

“There she is!” he cried, as he reached the boat. “There’s the iron that sent many a good whale, and some bad ones, too, maybe, to the boiling kettles. There she is!”

It was a harpoon that he had; an old implement, and one that had seen service, to judge by the look of it. It was rusty, and the wooden handle was full of notches.

“Them’s the number of whales she’s been into,” said Salt Water Sam, proudly, pointing to the cuts. “I did every one myself. And this tub and line--well they’ve seen service, just the same as their owner. They’re old but you can depend on ’em.”

While he was speaking he had boarded the boat, and was arranging the tub, with its coil of line in the bottom, at the bow. Then he sat down near Ned, and, taking out a file, began sharpening the barb of the harpoon.

“Let her go, skipper,” said Sam, to Jerry, and, at a nod from the latter, Bob cranked the engine, and the _Dartaway_ was steered out toward the open sea.

“Any danger of a storm?” asked Ned, of the old sailor. He did not want to get caught as they had been before.

“Clear as a bell, and it’ll stay so ’till dog watch,” the sailor replied, not looking up from the delicate operation of putting a finer point on his weapon.

“I’m afraid we’ll see very little of the whale,” remarked Bob. “All the other boats are ahead of us, and they’ll scare him off so we’ll miss him.”

“Don’t let that worry you, sonny,” said Sam. “Trust an old whaleman to find the creatures if they’re within seeing distance. Put her right between the two points, lad, there’s less current there, and you’ll skim along like one of Mother Carey’s chickens,” he added to Jerry.

Jerry speeded up the engine, and the _Dartaway_ fairly flew through the water. Ahead was quite a flotilla of sail and motor boats, crowded with persons anxious to get a view of the sea monster.

“It’s a sweet little craft you have here, lads,” Sam remarked, having satisfied himself that the harpoon was sharp enough. “Almost as fast as the _Dolly Gray_, in which I made my first voyage to the whaling grounds. Ah, but she was a lovely schooner.”

Sam now began fastening the line to the weapon. He took great care in this, and Ned and Bob watched him curiously. Then he saw to it that the line was properly coiled in the tub.

“Can’t be too careful,” the sailor remarked. “If it snarls why it’s all up with the whale and you, too.”

“Is there going to be any danger?” asked Bob, in some alarm.

“Not with Salt Water Sam aboard,” was the sailor’s reply. “You leave it to me.”

By this time the _Dartaway_ was up with the last of the boats, and, a little later had overhauled some of them. Ten minutes more and she had passed the points of the harbor and the boys found themselves out on the open Atlantic.

The water was calm, and there was scarcely a breeze to ruffle the surface. There was a long gentle swell, but the lads soon became used to this.

“Now, boys,” said Sam, “if you’ll do as I tell you we’ll be all right. I’m going to stand in the bow, and, skipper, you send her forward or back, as I tell you. If we strike the whale you want to send her astern like lightning, or there’ll be a mess.”

“Aye aye, sir!” answered Jerry, somewhat inclined to laugh at the old man’s earnestness.

“That’s the way to talk,” said Sam. “Put her out a little more, skipper. I want to clear some of these craft.”

Jerry manœuvred so as to round a number of other power boats, which seemed to be headed for one spot. They were evidently steering for where the whale had last been seen.

“He was headed up the coast,” Sam murmured. “We’ll point up that way, and maybe we can land him before the others scare him away.”

It was here that the old sailor’s knowledge of whales and their ways stood him in good stead. He knew the creature would not merely float around on the water, but would dive, and swim beneath the surface. He had made inquiries and learned that the monster was headed up the coast.

The _Dartaway_ was now comparatively alone, there being no other boats within a quarter of a mile. The rest were hovering near where the big creature had been seen to go down.

“If he comes up under one of those boats it will be all day with ’em,” observed Ned.

Salt Water Sam was standing in the bow, beside Jerry, who was at the wheel. The old man peered ahead with his one keen eye. He was as still as though the carved figurehead of a vessel; every muscle was tense, every nerve on the alert. The joy of battle shone in his face.

Suddenly, just ahead of the _Dartaway_, there was a commotion in the water. It seemed to boil and bubble. Then something big and black was flung up from the hidden depths.

At the same instant two thin columns of water shot up from the surface of the ocean. Up and up they went, sparkling in the sun.

“There she blows! There she blows!” yelled Sam. “Send her ahead, boys!”